Preset Choices
by The Magnificent It
Summary: In life, many choices are made. As Jak and his furry compadre sit in the wasteland with nowhere to go, Jak thinks about some of the choices made for him. Slight Samos bashing, no pairings.


**Out of sheer bordom, I have decided to write this, simply because, well, I'm feeling a little out of it with Naruto. Maybe its writers block, maybe its something else, I don't know. Besides, I've never tried my hand at a potential oneshot.**

**Don't get me wrong, I fully intend to update my other works, this is probably going to stay a one shot. That I can assure you.**

**Random threats and whatnot. Don't own Jak and Daxter, and there sequels. Naughty Dog does, those sadistic bastards.**

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Reminiscing was never his thing.

The hot dune he sat in, small tufts of sand billowing up with each gust of wind would have normally been distracting, blowing into his offending eyes. Thankfully, a trustee pair of goggles covered his pupils with there protective lenses, a thin, scarf-life fabric shielding his nose and mouth.

Behind him, leaning at a slight angle was the burning wreckage of the dune-hopper, its once light green paint job a sooty black, its wheels missing, save one, mockingly bent at an angle. Jak would have to really kiss up to Kleiver if he was ever going to let him drive it again, something that left a sour feeling in his mouth.

A familiar, short orange figure slowly walked up to the dune, shadowed behind a mountain. His irritated face was something Jak was familiar with, to the point he could almost decipher one annoyed look from the other. This one said 'DAMMIT! Things just got uber annoying.'

"Well this is just great! Freakin' SPECTACULAR! The damn things been blinking for an hour, and so far, no ones come by! What have they done, left us for dead or something?! Figures, we save seven people from dying out here, and they pay us back by letting us die!" Daxter, in anger, hurled a small beacon, which flashed every few moments, sending an invisible signal outwards.

Walking over, he sat in a huff, crossing his arms, before swiveling his deep frown at his childhood friend, who hadn't said a word. Daxter, in irritation, lashed out. "You just HAD to flip the damn 'JUMP' switch, just to save a few seconds, and crash the damn thing, didn't you?! Why does everything bad happen to me whenever I'm around you, seriously?!"

Jak remained silent still, which served to aggravate his orange compadre further. "STUPID DESERT!!" Daxter screamed, though not as loud as he normally could have. Mauraders lurking about would leap at the chance to maul those stranded out there.

The silence permeated the air, the quiet unnerving 'Orange Lightning'. "Seriously Jak, why us? Why is it always us? Its always one thing or another, from war to famine, to doing errand boy CRAP for people who end up wanting to kill us. Everything just keeps falling apart, doesn't it? When the hell did I sign up for this?" Daxter rhetorically asked, though his eyes snapped to his sitting partner when he received an answer.

"That's...just it Dax. We didn't." Jak's deep, gravely voice, a growl, seemed to make the very sands go quiet. Daxter raised an eyebrow. "Ooookay, I think you...have been sitting here to long. Comeon, maybe we can walk back without dying of thirst-" Daxter was cut off however, as the previously stone-faced figure swiveled his goggled eyes towards him.

"No. I mean it Dax. This entire...situation, we never had a say in it; you or me. None of it." Dax's ears curled back, his eyes and stature wavering slightly, before he sighed and sat down beside Jak in the refreshing, if dry shade. "Fine, whatever, we talk. But if you go all lectury on me, I swear on his holy greenieness, that I WILL slap you upside the head." Jak, underneath his scarf, smirked.

"Yeah, I guess that's fair. I don't know it's just this whole banishment seems to have woken me up a little I guess. I mean, here I am, dangerous as hell, armed to the teeth, and yet, I saved them. And they, the people I trusted, dumped me into the wasteland like used garbage." Jak sighed a little, though Daxter huffed.

"Tell me about it." Jak sent him a sidelong look, smirking. Daxter was good at that, being non-chalant.

"Well, I've been thinking about it. And I've come to the realization that...well, I've pretty much been trained and bred for this. ALL of this Daxter, up till now that is. Same goes for you." Daxter's small fuzzy eyebrow rose, as the wind suddenly picked up, creating a high whistling noise. It elicited an almost ominous feeling in both of them.

Daxter broke the quiet. "H...how you figure?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"From the day we were kids, I've realized a trend, from as old as I can remember. I was taught three things as a kid: In a fight, you never give up, use your head and body together and make sure you think before you act, and-

"Never disobey an order. EVER. And now, I think I know why Dax. I think I'm the Elvin equivalent to a croca-dog. I was bred for this part, and Samo's was part of my creation. Samo's knew this was going to happen, and he brought me up as such, to be a weapon that never disobeyed. You remember the first time we decided to scamper off and avoid training?" Dax shuddered.

"He had me clean the eco-collectors with a toothbrush. What did he do to you again?" Jak seemed to chuckle darkly.

"He had my uncle give me fifteen lashes with a pole."

Daxter's eyes snapped wide. "H-he actually did that? Seriously?" Daxter said disbelievingly.

Jak nodded gravely. "When that happened, I didn't disobey a single thing he said for two months. Now that I think about it, I know why he did it."

Dax quirked. "Mmmmkay? Why pray tell would old moss-head send you to something so brutal?" Dax was feeling a little off, he'd had seriously no idea of this happening.

Jak stared off into the desert for a few moments, before sighing. "I think...it was training, for the future. When I went home that night, I just couldn't escape the pain of knowing my Uncle and Samo's, the only parental figures I had, would turn on me like that. Now I know why.

"Training. They were training me for all of it. I had no say in the matter, oh no, I was the only person alive who had the skill and potential to kill Kor, and part of me accepts that, grudgingly. But, I still hate it, knowing now, that they knew this was going to happen to me, the baron and all, and they did nothing to at least help me, aside from hurt enough that I wouldn't go insane in prison, and prepare me to do whatever they ordered. They didn't even offer the choice to me, whether or not I wanted to go through all this."

Jak raised his palm experimentally, flexing it. "Same goes for you Dax. Samo's knew this would happen to you to. Remember when we came back from Mystie Island, when instead of being worried, or concerned about your...'change', he just said it was an improvement, and sent us off to do a chore for him?" Daxter's eyes blinked, before they widened considerably. A slight twitch developed in his left one, before he screamed to the sky and kicked a rock violently.

"THAT...THAT HORSE-RADISH SUCKIN'...GRRRAH!" He kicked another pebble, ignoring the pain in his left paw. _'That'd be my left foot if he'd bothered to tell me...' _Jak waited for his compadre to calm down, signaled when said ottsel sat hotly to the ground, cursing a certain sage.

"Well great. Guess I now know why I never trusted that green-skinned liar." Daxter's scowl deepened further, before he turned to his comrade. "So...they trained both of us to kill Kor huh? What else is new?" Daxter spat sarcastically.

Jak remained silent, before continuing. "Yeah, they knew. And for the most part, I'm okay with what they did. Without the training, I wouldn't be alive right now. Killing Kor I know needed to be done, but it pisses me off, to think I 'm a freakin' dog at their disposal, to be used whenever they needed me. He brought me up to never actually think for myself, to do only as told, like some mindless slave." Dax scoffed. "Yeah, that turned out well, huh?"

Jak chuckled darkly. "Yeah, I guess it did. It turns out only through an act of rebellion I end up where I am now. We would have never known about Gol's plot, never would have found the rift gate, and would have never ended up like this, in the middle of the wasteland-" Jak suddenly coughed, patting his chest with a fist, Daxter sending him a worried glance.

"S-s'okay. Just not used to talking this much in weather like this."

Daxter sighed. "So, why do you think he'd go to all that trouble, old green-stuff I mean, to make sure you stay under his and everybody else's thumb?"

Jak, still patting his chest, spoke with a slight growl. "Half the stuff we did was considered suicide for most. Sure, he knew we'd survive all of it, but not unscathed, and he knew we wouldn't know what was going to happen. So, he trained both of us, me in particular, to obey a command, no matter how insane."

"So that you didn't per say, turn on Torn or Krew in the future? So you never stop to think 'Hey, why am I doing any of this?'" Jak nodded grimly. Dax leaned backwards as the wind began to die down again.

"Yeah, pretty much. Any smart person, or in this case, any person not trained since birth to kill a creature that nearly wiped out the precursors, would know its probably not a good idea to obey an order to get yourself killed.

"And it pisses me right off, to know that the whole damn time, after all they've systematically put me through for whatever reason, risking life and limb for there god-damned asses, as soon as they don't know what to do with me, they dump my ass in the desert to rot." Jak said coldly, smacking a fist into the rock behind him.

Daxter edged a little away from his companion, as a pulse of dark eco suddenly sprang from his location. Jak however, relaxed, putting his hands in his lap. "Look at me now. Chalk full of dark eco, in the middle of the desert, planning ahead on how I'm going to kiss up to a fat-ass like Kleiver."

Daxter grimly looked down. "Yeah...but you forgot one thing."

Jak looked up and turned to his friend. "I'm here for ya buddy. Despite the crap they've put us both through, I'm still here for ya. Now stop with this mopin' crap. After all, the city left us to die, remember? We don't have to care about those assholes anymore!" Jak sat up a little higher, the thought crossing his mind, as the high whine of an engine and the creak of steel springs caught his attention.

Over a dune sprang a vehicle, piloted by a woman in torn clothing and furs, her blue hair done up, rifle at her side. "Hey! You! Over there, you the one sending that distress signal?" Jak stood up, walking over to the small, medium armored vehicle she was driving. Didn't look like any of Kleivers, but it would still work well enough.

The woman peered past the blonde at the smoking wreckage. "Holy...! Kleivers gonna eat yer liver for this kid! Might as well not picked you up, seeing as he's gonna kill you the moment you get back!" She laughed, patting him sternly on the back as he got in. Moments later Daxter hopped on top of his usual perch, lying as comfortably as he could on his shoulder.

"Eh, we'll send a pick-up crew out once we get back eh? What's your name stranger?"

Jak looked at her sideways, his usual bravado of silent hatred returning full strength. He spoke in a low, calculated voice. "Jak..."

The woman's eyes widened in recognition of the name. "Y-you mean the same Jak, the one with the weird-" Daxter butt in.

"Yes. Now, less talky, more drivey toots." She sent a glare towards said animal; surprisingly unfazed by the fact she was being told off by a small rodent.

"Alright, s'okay, just curious, I wasn't around for your arena fights, been out on a mission I'm just getting back from two days ago." Gunning the engine, she whirled the vehicle around, heading towards the constantly burning tower that marked Spargus city.

As the wheels turned, kicking up a small wave of sand, Jak resumed quietly thinking, barely registering the small chatter the driver was making. He was busy, thinking about...well...

Thinking about being used.

Was it right that they had used him like that? He had after all been the only person alive with the talent, expertise and skill to kill Kor, and save Haven. Freaky eco powers included. It wasn't right sure that they threw him away after they were through, although to be fair, he could see why. Taking on the very power that runs a city is pretty scary, and most of them weren't the type to risk their neck.

Especially for a dark eco freak.

But so is going into the heart of a metal-head nest, or being chased by Krimzon guard. He would go to hell and back for all of them on an order, just the few words of "Hey Jak, could you-" were enough for him to immediately do as told, no matter how suicidal or terrifying.

Torn had once said that he was never part of a bigger cause. Well, he was. He was part of a cause that fused the other causes; he WAS the cause. He was the guy that they all needed help from. Afterall-

He was bred for it.

Still, he wasn't so pig-headed to not know that what had happened had needed to happen. It just hurt. Everything hurt...

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_"Jak, we need you to-"_

_"Jak, this mission-"_

_"Jak my boy-"_

_It was there, the questions, the pleas he so eagerly partook in. The voices, some familiar, others not, filled his mindscape as his mind drifted on the endless sea of black fog._

_"You should at least be dead from all the-" That voice elicited a growl from his more primal side; Praxis was someone who could always send him into a frenzy._

_A flash of a memory. Speeding through traffic, debris from exploding KG vehicles left and right, bullets whizzing inches over his and Dax's heads, just close enough that the heat from the concentrated red eco could be felt. Shifting hover zones to slide under a HellCat, Jak briefly wondered why he was doing this for Krew of all people._

_Again, another flash, and again, a memory of wind through his hair as others died left and right. The racetrack, previously packed with racers, was almost deserted now, thanks to a particularly long jump, coupled with a few pillars. Jak was a lucky one. And again, he briefly wondered, is this worth killing Praxis, publicly murdering these people for his goals?_

_He remembered squashing this thought, his hatred obliterating his mercy._

_A third flash. Standing beside a monolithic weapon, the precursor stone embedded into an ancient control panel, set to unleash a massive surge of energy. "Stone...gun...nest." Jak spoke to himself mostly, pointing figuratively towards each. His darker half was tense, its love of destruction rising to the surface, affecting Jak, who laughed out loud as the machine hummed with charging energy._

_  
The tip of the weapon glowed a brief green, before sending a massive emerald beam, completely obliterating the nests protective wall. "That outta wake 'em up." Daxter said darkly, though Daxter's darkness paled in comparisons to Jak's. _

_"Let's go finish this." He spoke, his voice a harsh whisper snapped Daxter at attention._

_"Y-you mean go in there? I'm...right behind ya." Daxter said, moving behind Jak._

_There was no pause in his movements, only the bloody image of Kor's death._

_He was centered in on the destruction of his enemy._

_Like a hound, moving in for the kill._

Jak's eyes snapped open, before he flung himself into a sitting position, hurling his fuzzy counterpart across the room. Rubbing his eyes sorely, Jak looked down at his drowsy and hurt friend. "S-sorry Dax. Had a...really weird dream." Dax brushed himself off, turning tired, blood-shot eyes towards him.

"You...owe me breakfast for that." He said, slowly trekking closer, before collapsing in a sandy heap. The small, cramped room Spargus had given them for their services was barely a closet, but it was roomy enough for a small mattress, and a shelf for a few objects. A small candle illuminated the room, casting ghostly images.

Jak was in no mood to sleep however. Standing up, he cracked a shoulder before cracking the door open and peering outside. The slowly rising sun signaled daybreak had occurred two hours ago, making it between 7-9 o'clock. Jak sighed. "Dax, I'm gonna go out for a bit, you gonna stay here?" His friend responded by raising a fuzzy palm, before making a quick wave.

Jak took it as a yes.

Slipping his other, less comfortable to sleep in cloths on, armor, pack, ring thing on his chest, scarf and the rest, Jak stepped outside. The shore leading to the ocean gently lapped waves, creating a pristine sunrise sort of scene, one that made, for a brief moment, a sense of serenity and...well, completeness, if you'd buy it.

Walking over to where the packed sands of Spargus's streets changed to that of a beach, the tides moving close enough that if you were to place your feet over its edge, you'd feel the refreshing sea foam rise up and wet the soles of your feat. Recalling doing something of the like back in sand over, Jak weighed the pros and cons of indulging.

He promptly screwed the consequences, threw his boots off, and hung them over the edge, letting the refreshing oceans breeze fill his ears. Watching the rising sun, Jak, for a brief moment, wasn't a cold-blooded killer, dark eco enhanced, freakishly powerful, gun-totting maniac demonized by the public.

He was a fifteen year old kid, without a care in the world, with a path set straight for him. It was a nostalgic feeling. A nudging sensation went along his shoulder blade, and turning, Jak met the slightly horned skull of a leaper lizard, which had, for some ought reason, wandered over. Briefly patting its head, Jak turned back, expecting it to take off.

It however, lay down as well as it could, and simply watched the sunrise. It was odd, if you were to walk in on a scene as such, the resident dark boy taking in a scene with a lizard, but hey, the whole week up till then had been odd, what was one more thing?

The lizard squawked suddenly, as a familiar piece of equipment floated up, its large red lens taking Jak in, as the familiar voice of Sig filtered through the machines voice box rang up. "Jak, didn't think you'd be awake at this hour. I have a favor to ask, and if you can do it I might be able to hook you up with a weapon upgrade."

Jak, dream still slightly fresh in his mind, stopped for a moment. Silence reigned, the only sound the brief flap of the leapers wings, before Jak worked up the courage to do something that went against everything he had been taught. "You know what Sig? I think I'll take a rain check on that. I'm...taking a mental health day."

Silence permeated the communicator, before Sig responded. "You sure? I mean, I'm not one hundred percent here, but I'm pretty dang sure that I can get the upgrade for you. The mission is not to life-threatening either, most trouble you'll have is a few mauraders." Sig almost seemed to be pleading, though Jak put that to the side.

Jak however, shook his head. "No thanks, maybe some other time. I haven't been to well since me and Dax crashed the Dune-hopper last week."

Sig chuckled on the other end, though it sounded a little strained. "Yeah, good thing that chick picked you up when she did. What Kliever make you two do to repay him again?"

"Had to give him 60 precursor orbs." Jak chuckled slightly as another wave rose up, wetting the hem of his pants.

Sig could visibly be heard cringing. "Yeouch. He ever gonna let you drive it again?"

Jak laughed, though it was mostly out of spite. "Yeah, though he swore that he'd personally eat Daxter if we crashed it again."

A brief pause, before Sig tried his hand at bargaining one last time. "So, you sure you don't want to do this man? There won't be another chance, one time offer."

Jak's lungs tensed. He'd assumed it was a mission that could wait at least a few hours. "A...a...I guess..." _'Probably should do it if its only for one day...'_

"Actually Sig..." Said person tensed hopefully in preparation. "No. Sorry, I think I'll turn you down for now. Sorry man."

Sig was quiet for a few moments, before his speech returned jovially. "Well, alright, just thought maybe you'd like to. I'll see if there's anyone else who might want to help me. Good luck on your 'mental health' thing. Tell Daxter to take one to. Mar knows he needs better mental health." The communicator disappeared inside Jak's pack, the leaper squawked happily.

Jak...just sat there, eyes wide. He'd just...said no to a mission. He'd just rebelled against the programming specifically put in place to save the lives of people he knew and deep down cared for. And it...was probably the most uplifting thing he'd ever done. It was so freeing, like what little weight that had been left from his banishment had been washed away, like he was his own person.

Smirking, Jak stared out at the sunrise one last time, before he pulled his feet up, dried them with a shake, and pulled his boots on.

Sure, he'd admit, he was bred like a dog, perhaps a wolf. But now, he was making the transition to person, he was making his own choices.

And no one was gonna stop him.

Though he hoped that by refusing to help Sig didn't result in something like the world ending. That would be ironic.

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CRAP! Of all the people Sig had been hoping to get help from, it was Jak. For several reasons:

He was a reliable and truthful guy, if blunt.

He was someone who no matter what did as instructed, or so he'd been informed. Not that Sig would take advantage of that, except in a situation like this.

He was also, as an added bonus, not from Spargus, and not familiar with certain customs.

Like the washing of the yakkows. Imagine a large animal that general smells absolutely terrible. Now take said animal, and leave it in a hot, humid desert for several weeks, and fed the only food that was available in large numbers in the desert, a very potent species of bean. Coupled with the fact that it only gets washed once a month, you get a very unpleasant animal.

Said animal moo'ed loudly in front of him, as its sweat-soaked, putrid smelling fur permeated the air. Sig balefully looked at the head cattle rancher, who gave him a sorrowful, and very wide smile. "Guess the sap you tried to sucker into this wasn't as ignorant as you thought he was, huh?" He said in a very heavy, rustic accent.

Sig just growled. Truthfully, he would have normally never taken advantage of Jak like this, but he absolutely, positively HATED yakkow washing duty. He had meant it when he called Jak about the weapons upgrade to, really he had.

A key-chain and a different colored laser-pointer count as upgrades together, right?

Ringing a sponge out, Sig slowly began to wash circles into the animal's thick, putrid hide.

Mar he hated Yakkow duty. Of all times for the blonde to decide to say no, why now?

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"Jak, the city needs you! I...need you." Ashelin said, her voice full of concern and sadness.

Jak however sent a piercing glare her way. "The city threw me out, remember? They can ROT for all I care."

Ashelin however placed a hand on his shoulder. "But what about your-"

Jak whirled on her. "Forget it, just leave!"

She sent a hurt look his way, before her face-hardened. "I guess the hero I knew died in the desert, or was it long before that?" She took his hand forcefully, placing a small object in it, before turning. "Don't you remember who you are?" She said with finality, before getting in and taking off.

Jak raised the seal of Mar to his eyes, widening, before hardening. "I'm THROUGH saving the world."

As the HellCat Ashelin piloted left the wasteland, Jak stomped angrily towards the now repaired Dune-Hopper, taking a seat as his close friend took the one beside him. Silence reigned for several minutes as Jak gripped the wheel of the machine to tightly, his face a deep angry frown. Daxter, looking a little conflicted, spoke up.

"S-so...that's the plan huh? Leave the city to die?" Jak's body tensed violently, and for a brief moment Daxter thought he had sent his friend into a violent surge, before Jak suddenly relaxed with a sigh, lowering his head to the car wheel. For a few moments, he just sat there, before he looked up, his face now impassive.

"No...We'll save them. But, not before we let them stir in there own juices for a while. They sent me out here, so I think its only fair they see what its like to be in the hot seat for a while. Because frankly, I think we could both use a little appreciation." Daxter looked at his friend like he'd grown another head, before looking ahead, and smirking.

"So not only do we still save my sweet Tess, but we also get a little more appreciation?" Jak smirked a little at Daxter's near devious tone.

"Yeah, thats the plan. Maybe that way they'll think a little more about send us on the really crappy missions." Jak joked at one of Daxter's most used sayings.

"Yeah, that'd be nice. By the way, you think old red-head was given you the eye?" Jak scoffed, though his ears did turn a slight shade of pink.

"I kinda got the image, but I think it was mostly show. Trying to swindle us into it a little more. Why I got so pissy there." Dax nodded.

Jak pulled a small object from his bag, poking the small glass circle in its center. "Map says there's a mission at the precursor temple. You think we should go since we already have this thing here?" Jak patted the wheel of the vehicle.

Daxter sent him a sort of confused frown. "Awe, do we have to? I'm starving." A large grumble unmistakably went up, though it was from Jak, not Daxter.

"Well, we could, or we could go back to Spargus, grab a steak and some other stuff, eat, then go do it?"

Daxter raised his finger to his chin. "Yeah, alright. Finally Jak, you make a decision I can get behind." Smirking, Jak pivoted the vehicle around, and headed towards the only refuse in the scorching desert.

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"He...he said no?" Torn's voice over a communicator said incredulously, Ashelin gravely nodding. She knew the hologram Torn received would be enough. "SHIT! This is just perfect! Morale's gonna fall through the roof when the troops find out the only guy alive who can beat this war isn't gonna show!"

Ashelin gravely nodded. "Did you at least put some doubt in him, guilt him a little? Anything to get that guy in this city is good, just as long as he does. Everyone's gonna get killed Ashelin, we need JAK!" The line however went dead, signaling the conversion was over. Across the hologram table stood Keira and her father, Samo's.

"Well, now what do we do? Jak is apparently still mad, and we don't have time for that." Samo's shook his head. "I know, I know. Just let me think all right. That boy always was hard to control, even in his early years." Samo's sighed, though as Ashelin left to take care of other business, Keira turned to her father.

"D-daddy, what did you mean by 'hard to control'?" Keira asked her father, concerned laced in her voice. "Nothing Keira, Jak was just never someone who liked to listen to what others told him to." _'Even when threatened.'_

Keira acted placated, but every few moments sent her father a worried glance. There was something that was troubling her father, and Mar help her, she was going to get to the bottom of it.

But not then. She had vehicles to repair for the war effort.

As his daughter walked out, Samo's sighed angrily. Damn that boy! Why, why couldn't he just this once do as he was told?

Why couldn't he act like he'd been taught to act, especially at a critical time like this? He had never taught him to be as such, the entire village had been in on it! But still, despite everything, both of them, Jak and Daxter, were still rebelling against everyone, even those who had his best interests to obey!

He had always meant well, sure! He had yes, on many occasion ordered severe punishments for disobedience, but with good reason! If Jak hadn't been taught as such, all of the actions his younger self had gone to great lengths to do would have been worthless. Sure, the boy would never grow up normal, and would always be haunted, but it was a small sacrifice!

The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few.

But, as Samo's stood on his two logs, he couldn't help feeling as though bit by bit-

Jak slowly broke the chains he had so laboriously built to hold him.

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**Sort of a side, AU kinda thing, where if Samo's never really had Jak's feelings and opinions in the matter in mind. This fic isn't to accurate, and if you pay attention to the story line you might think differently, but this piece wasn't written for that. It was written for the sake of thought provoction, so the next time you perhaps plug in any of the Jak games, you notice a slightly different angle to it all.**

**Yeah, gettin' kinda preachy, I know.**

**Please review, and tell me about what you thought of this. Will probably stay a oneshot.**


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